Fool Me Once
by ThePriceIsMeg
Summary: Two of those little girls from the police academy have a secret. Here is the story of their life before Charlie, a history that isn't the storybook friendship we imagine - there are also secrets and pain... and perhaps even love. Jill/Sabrina, yes really.
1. Prologue

It's been a long time! FIRSTLY The outline of this story is by my friend Marie who can't be bothered with writing but wants comments on her idea! She asked me to write for her as a challenge to see if I could fill out a halfway believable story about her "unheard of" favorite pairing... you'll see... Yikes! Wish me luck! :P

**November 3, 1970**

Two girls sit on a couch inside a tiny apartment in San Francisco, sharing a bottle of liquor. The apartment belongs to the redhead. The blonde isn't her roommate, but spends most of her time there anyway. They're best friends, both fresh out of high school and quite sure they're grown up.

This blonde is also quite sure she's in love with this redhead. She's felt this way for almost a year, able to think of little else. Thanks to the alcohol, this feels like the right time. The room is quiet and somehow she finds the courage to kiss her friend. After brief hesitation, the redhead kisses back. Then stands, and takes her hand, and leads her to the bedroom.

Laying in an unmade paisley bed, the blonde's heart pounds as she's touched where no one's ever touched her. It feels good, but she can't completely enjoy it. It's already too far along to say she isn't ready. She hadn't had this in mind, at least, not tonight.

Obligated, nervous, she returns the favor without knowing how. It takes some time, but is worth it to hear her best friend exhale her name.

When it's over, they look at each other and smile. The blonde has never been happier. They sleep.

Morning comes.

The next kiss goes wrong. In the light of day, the redhead is disgusted.

Angry words are exchanged, but the blonde is mostly on the receiving end. She's thrown out of the apartment. At home she resolves to bury her heartache, crying only in secret, but often. There is no confidant to share this burden.

That night is never mentioned again. They still see each other, but it's never the same. Stories spread. The friendship quickly withers.

From then on, the blonde decides put it out of her memory, and never make a mistake like this again. And make lots of new friends. Male friends, because she likes men, men only, and men a lot. She's growing into a beautiful young woman, so it isn't difficult.

One night stands become commonplace. She's good at it, and can afford to have high standards. She likes to have a good time. Because some nights, when a man is making her body feel good, she can forget that her heart feels bad.


	2. New Night, Same Fight

**June 1, 1974**

Around one circular table in the back corner of the bar sat a small sampling of the Los Angeles Police Deparment. Laughter seized the trio for the umpteenth time, their table wobbling on uneven legs and sloshing the beer inside their bottles. It was their regular table, at their regular hangout. Nick's was a cozy little hole-in-the-wall dive, perfect if you just wanted working class booze and a few bites to eat. On this warm summer evening like many others, that's all they wanted.

"That's another five for me," Jill declared, slapping the table twice, her blonde curls bouncing with her laughter.

"What? No, it isn't." Sabrina disagreed, sobering.

"Yes it is. Don't you cheap out on me."

"No way. I'm challenging that one. It wasn't a clear win for you."

Jill narrowed her eyes at her friend. "Third party ruling."

Both turned their heads towards the only male at the table.

"I'm not getting in the middle of this," he refused, raising his hands.

The three had met at the police academy. By the time their six months of training were through, Sabrina had gained two good friends and married one of them. Already though, she had been regretting that decision.

"That means he knows I won fair and square, but he's not allowed to rule against his wife." Jill interpreted, taking a swig of beer.

Bill Duncan smiled, knowing anything he said could and would be used against him later. He did think Jill was right, but he knew the rules of marriage.

"Well, if that is the case, he's a good boy, isn't he," Sabrina smirked, giving the mousy-haired man a kiss on the cheek.

"Not if it costs me money."

"'Ass' isn't a curse, anyway," Sabrina noted, upending her beer bottle to get the last drops.

Nick, the owner, was a friendly man with a foul mouth, so reliably foul that they had taken to placing bets on it. How many times he'd curse in one sentence, how many seconds he could talk to a new customer before swearing at them. It was just something to do for fun. Nick knew they did it, and would try to throw their game once in a while. He was a good sport.

"You can't just make up rules as you go along."

"Before we bet anymore, we need to lay down what counts and what doesn't," Bill reasoned.

"Well, as long as I'm in the red, how about three more?" Jill proposed, shaking her empty bottle.

"Okay."

"Yeah, I can do one more."

"Bet two seconds," Jill whispered secretly into Sabrina's ear as she got up.

"Babe, are you really sure about-" Bill Duncan asked his wife for the third time, now alone with her.

"Yes," she set her jaw, tired of being questioned on the subject of work.

She was new on the force, but already tired of being stuck behind a desk or playing Meter Nazi. It bothered her to spend her days hassling hardworking people who ran 5 minutes behind on their parking meter when there were dealers and murderers running loose around the city. She was making every effort to get out on the beat, be a real cop, even if it meant lousy pay or the graveyard shift.

"It's not glamorous, if that's what you're thinking. The grass is just greener." He was a cop too, out on the beat for almost a year now. "It's dangerous."

"I could use a little danger. It's boring."

"Danger doesn't equal fun. I don't think you know how much I'd worry."

"Three more, granpaw," Jill said cheerfully, rapping on the bar.

"Oh, you... take yer little fuckin' beers, ya chicken ass," the scarcely middle-aged owner barked, shoving the bottles across the counter in mock anger. Jill looked over her shoulder and saw that instead of acting on her bet tip, Sabrina had gotten involved in a discussion with her husband, and they didn't look happy. She decided to stall for a minute and shoot the breeze with Nick.

"Why, because I can't take care of myself?"

"I didn't say that, Bri. Don't you worry about me when I'm out?"

"Of course. But it's not because I don't have confidence in you."

She knew Bill was old fashioned. In his mind, she would ideally have remained a housewife, ready to cook his dinner and enjoy some intelligent conversation, maybe have some kids. It's not that he thought all women belonged in the home, he just preferred his to. He should have known a mind like hers wouldn't be content in that life.

"It's just not fair that you worry about me and it's fine, but if I worry about you I'm a chauvinist pig."

"Look, let's not get into this here. It's not like we're not going to have this identical conversation again when we get home."

"Fine."

The argument was capped off, man and wife sitting in silence and trying not to look too sour. Jill returned. Bill didn't drink his beer. He knew they'd be leaving soon, and he was driving.

Jill did her best to keep the harmless chatter rolling, get in a few laughs. She had to pretend not to know that if there was too long a silence, they'd start to argue. More and more nights had been like this. Bill was a good guy, but it was becoming clear they just weren't right for each other.

The car ride was quiet and tense. Jill couldn't help but feel awkward, and was eager to bail out when the Duncans' dented brown Ford rolled up to her apartment building.

Bill gripped the steering wheel, wondering whether their argument had stopped long enough to actually be over.

"You're making a big deal out of this."

"It isn't a big deal. I just didn't expect it."

"What did you expect? You thought I was gonna stay in the kitchen? We talked about this, specifically, before we got married."

"I just… no. Being a cop is just… it's dangerous. It should be a man's job."

"Oh, for crying out-"

"I know what you're going to say, it has nothing to do with intelligence. You know as well as I do that a woman can get in so much more trouble than a man, even in the same situation. You've got the brains for it but the people you have to deal with are no joke. You'll have some 7-foot addict rushing you with a knife in the middle of the night just because you're wearing a uniform, and all the brains in the world aren't going to help you. A bullet doesn't care if you're a fucking Mensa member. That's not a situation I want my wife in."

"So if I get out on the beat, I'll just be the damsel in distress, right? Have to bother the real cops for help all the time, and probably get killed after 3 days? How do you handle the guy with the knife? Oh that's right, you're a man, men are big and strong and can handle everything."

She knew Bill was slightly touchy about his body. He was fit, but never the biggest baddest guy around. Ever since he was 17 he'd been hoping for one last growth spurt. He hoped they could skip this part of the argument where she pointed out that some women are stronger than some men, and some women can handle things men can't handle, and on and on.

"I'm not trying to stop you," he said after a long silence. "But it makes me nervous."

Sabrina stared at the glove box for a minute.

"Maybe it shouldn't be your job to be nervous about me."

They kept apart after they arrived home, for the course of their bedtime rituals. A few minutes alone let them cool off. Bill wandered into the living room while brushing his teeth, listening to the hiss of Sabrina's shower through the bathroom wall. He looked at their couch. Lately he'd spent some nights there. Not on Sabrina's order, but due to their mutual inability to share a bed after an argument. She always got the bed; that was at least one thing she liked about his being old fashioned. But the couch was uncomfortable, and he didn't like what it stood for.

He made his wife a peace offering. They kissed and made up, but both knew the issue wasn't even close to resolved. At least after going through the motions, a truce was established and they could share their bed. Laying a foot apart, they both pretended to be asleep but stared into the darkness.

The divorce in September would hardly come as a surprise.

They sold the house, and Sabrina moved into a high-rise nearby.


	3. Card Sharks

**December 8, 1974**

"Nines." Sabrina dropped her cards on the table. "You want to count?"

"No need," Jill scowled, tossing the remainder of her hand down, as did the third member of their party.

They had met Kelly at the police academy. She mostly kept to herself and seemed too dainty to be in the police at all. A gorgeous girl, she had nearly as many male admirers in the academy as Jill, probably fewer only because she didn't encourage them so much.

After work this night, she'd complained about having nothing to do, so Jill had invited her along to do nothing in particular. They ended up betting their pocket change on gin rummy. After enduring Sabrina's usual winning streak, Jill threw a game or two to the newcomer, making sure she didn't feel unwelcome. Sabrina never believed in such a practice, and was in no mood to lose intentionally.

A pad of score paper and pencil lay abandoned at the edge of the table since the second round. There was really no doubt who'd won yet again, even though her side of the table looked much more sparse. Jill and Kelly's cards were arranged in neatly fanned trios - Sabrina dropped hers in stacks, seeing no point in arranging them any other way than how they fell. The winner smirked wordlessly and dealt again.

"You guys want anything to eat?" Jill asked, scooting her chair out.

"Not me."

"You gotta eat right now?" Sabrina glanced at the untouched pile of cards dealt at Jill's seat.

"Put my pile in the middle for me, and you go first."

"You don't have a pile."

"Start me a tab."

Kelly and Sabrina each took their turn, then stared at each other, then turned to stare at Jill's butt sticking out from the refrigerator as she rooted around inside.

"If she ever wins the lottery, I bet the first thing she'll buy is a walk-in refrigerator," Sabrina sighed. "Hey, you gonna be done in there tonight, or what?"

"Alright, alright, just a second."

Moments later she returned to the table with a carton of leftover Chinese food, wiped her hands and picked up her cards. "Ohhh, yeah! Head start." She plunked down three Jacks. "Ok, now what were you just saying about buying me a new refrigerator?"

"Wow, selective hearing at its finest."

Jill noticed Kelly looking cold.

"Sorry it's always freezing in here Kelly, my heat's on the fritz. Want me to grab you a sweater?"

"Oh, no thanks, I'm fine."

"Aren't you ever going to ask your super about that?" Sabrina asked.

"You know, none of my neighbors I've talked to have ever even seen the guy."

"Maybe you could put out an APB," Kelly suggested.

"I'm not sure it would work. He might just be folklore. I probably have to do something involving potions and a full moon," she shook her head, tossing away a card.

"We had a guy like that at my first apartment when I was in college. This girl on my floor thought she could get him by reporting a gas leak in the building. A fire truck came instead."

"How much trouble did she get in?" Kelly laughed.

"You know, I think she ended up getting a date with one of the firefighters."

"Firefighters are always sexy," Jill added thoughtfully.

"No they aren't," Sabrina disagreed. "I accepted a blind date with one once, on that principle."

"How bad?"

"Well, okay, not awful, but maybe the cheapest I ever met. I ended up getting the tab and his big move was to offer to pay half the tip. Which was like a dollar."

"Hey, speaking of a dollar - " Kelly snapped down four kings and a run of spades, ending the game - "you owe me one."

Sabrina gaped. "You dirty hustler!"

"That's for picking me last," Kelly said matter-of-factly, reaching across the table to scoop up her winnings.

An informal football game been the first time they really met at the academy, when Sabrina was in charge of picking players for her team. The crowd dwindled until Kelly was the last one standing, and defaulted to their team.

Sabrina and Jill had exchanged a wincing glance when their prissy-looking comrade was crushed under a vicious tackle almost immediately after the game began. Probably she'd have a hissy fit and limp off the field crying. But she got back on her feet, muddy and pissed-off, taunted the other player, and ran to get back in formation. She was no star athlete, but she had guts, and that was good enough. Even though their team ended up losing, by the end Kelly had won some respect.

"Look, I said I was sorry. I never even talked to you before," Sabrina defended.

"You just don't look like you know how to play football," Jill shrugged.

"...said Manicure Barbie," Kelly added, raising both eyebrows and looking Jill up and down. Sabrina laughed. "And you, you don't look much like Joe Namath either."

"All right, fair enough. I'll pick you first, next time."

"_If_ you're the one picking," Kelly said slyly.

"Yeah, seriously though, are you slipping extra cards in?" Sabrina asked, frowning and starting to pick through the discard pile. "I swear I just had a king..."

"It's a game of chance, Bri," she smiled. Her new friend seemed to take it for granted that she would win every game. "Now ladies, care for a chance to dig your way out of debt?"

"Another game like that and I'd be out on the street," Jill answered.

"Actually, maybe that's for the best. I think I'd probably better call it a night," Kelly sighed. "I'm supposed to have my sink fixed first thing in the morning."

"What's the matter with it?"

"I tried to fix it myself already, that's what's the matter. The guy's coming at 8."

They laughed.

"Don't blow that all in one place, now," Kelly smiled, gathering her coat and regarding the remainder of Sabrina's winnings for the night, a sparse collection of nickels and dimes.

"I'm going to have to get myself a piggy bank so I'm not tempted."

"I hope the sink guy's cute," Jill smiled, following Kelly to the door.

"Eh, well, from how he sounded on the phone, let's pray for a miracle."

"Goodnight Kelly," Jill laughed.

She returned to the table and opened up the flaps of her takeout carton.

Sabrina scrunched her nose. "You're eating that?"

"What's the matter?"

"That's really old."

"Hm? No it isn't."

"Yes it is. We got that Monday. I tossed mine days ago."

Jill examined a forkful of Lo Mein, put it in her mouth, and chewed carefully. "I think it's okay."

"I don't know how you're still alive. Remember I tried to stop you, when you're regretting this later."

"Betcha I won't," she smiled, taking another bite.

"Pretty big bet, for the girl who's been doing penny antes all night."

"Cuz all I hab ib penniev," Jill answered through a mouthful. "You wanna wook in my purf?"

"No. I'm just saying. Hey, what time is it?"

Jill reached for her wristwatch lying on the kitchen table. "Just past 11."

"Hmm. I should go, too."

"Don't have to."

"You need your sleep."

"I'm not sleepy. C'mon, one more round."

"Alright," Sabrina shrugged.

She wasn't destroyed by the split from Bill since it ultimately did her good, but of course there was still a rough patch. Most of those evenings were spent with Jill, just like this, watching television or playing games, or whatever came up. She appreciated the company.

She watched Jill gather the cards, wondering how she managed to shuffle - or do anything, for that matter - without those long, manicured nails getting in the way. Her eyes lingered on Jill's face, looking at her in a different light, forgetting she knew her for just for a moment, and wondering how such a beautiful woman, with infinite popularity at her disposal, chose to spend nearly every night cooped up with a depressed divorcee. Some nights Sabrina wondered if it wasn't more than an act of charity.

Jill took a moment to study her hand, and thoughtfully rearrange a couple of cards. Really there were not two matches among them- it was only a habit from faking people out at poker. She caught Sabrina's eyes.

"What are you staring at?"

"I'm trying to figure out your motive."

The two were best friends, but it wasn't that they were like inseparable peas in a pod. Up until recently, they'd been best friends mainly due to the fact that neither had a better one. Now it dawned on her that lately, Jill had really been earning that title in her mind. Their friendship was one that Sabrina was happy for, interested in, and eager to keep building, because lately she'd found a different side of Jill - a side she liked a lot.

"I want to win back enough change so I'm able to have a cup of coffee in the morning," Jill answered uncertainly.

"No, I mean... us. You've been going well out of your way to keep your old drag of a friend company for... I don't know how many nights in a row now."

"And?"

"Well, you like to go out. You could be out doing anything with literally anyone you decided. And I know I'm not that much fun, especially as of late. So I suddenly find myself wondering... _why_."

"I'm lulling you into a sense of security before I pounce," Jill answered calmly, smiling. "I spend time with you because we're friends. Isn't that the way it usually works?"

"Yeah." Each discarded and drew from the pile without really paying much attention, taking a few turns in silence.

The steady hum from the heater shut off, making the quiet seem even louder.

"You take me seriously."

"Hm?"

"I like you because you take me seriously," Jill repeated, looking up from her cards. "I guess no one's really taken me very seriously in my adult life. No one smart, anyway." Over the years she'd had countless friends, but few of them female, and few of them close. Women didn't usually like her. All they saw was another blonde airhead, maybe a threat to their boyfriends, and not much else. She let them think it. It didn't matter.

"Why wouldn't people take you seriously?"

"Because I'm a bona fide dumb blonde."

"No you aren't."

"I can be. Anyway, when the whole world thinks so, what's the difference."

"That's all the difference. That's what makes you smart."

Jill looked up, masking surprise. "You think I'm smart?"

"I know you're smart."

Jill would often put on a different persona around people, totally playing into the way she looked. Shallow, flirty, a little airheaded. Until Sabrina got close to her, she wasn't aware that it wasn't her real personality. In private, after a long day, when she wasn't "on", she would be very different. Calm, cool, still fun but more serious, willing to show her actual maturity and intelligence instead of hiding it behind sugar-coated giggles. Not that she ever pondered deep philosophy - a lot of it was just her tone, and the way she carried herself. This was the version that Sabrina really liked. Although, she had to give her credit for mastering her appearance – sometimes she couldn't believe the things that girl could get away with. If Sabrina had been dealt a different hand in life, she thought it would be impressive to be like Jill.

"I only try to be smart. Sometimes," Jill replied, tossing out another card.

"No. You aren't a dumb blonde that manages to say something intelligent here and there. I did think that at first, when I met you. But it's the other way around. The intelligent part is the real part... you only play dumb. And it takes a very smart person to play dumb."

Jill stared back with a blank face, soaking it in. She had spent so long playing dumb that she'd begun to forget whether she was really playing anymore. To have someone see her intelligence for the first time made her want to get it out of the attic and use it more often.

"If I'm smart I'd rather look it. You're lucky that way, you look smart. You don't have anything to prove." One look gave you the entire, accurate idea of Sabrina's character - smart, independent, and not about to take any shit. That harder edge which meant, if one was willing to dig a little, there would be great loyalty and caring beneath the surface - an assessment which Jill was just finding out was correct. She felt that if she'd been dealt a different hand in life, she might be a lot like Sabrina.

"Even if it's annoying sometimes, you're still lucky. You've got a built-in cover."

Jill snorted. "You make it sound like I have some kind of secret weapon."

"That's exactly what you have. It's a free pass to anywhere. And you know that. You could be out skydiving with the LA Rams right now, if you decided."

Jill laughed, looking down at the table. She wondered if her guest would ask the question that she knew was next in her mind: why she was apparently so dedicated to being misunderstood. That topic dissolved on the tip of Sabrina's tongue, with the decision to avoid too much psychoanalysis in one night.

"Anyway. I appreciate it. Keeping me company, I mean."

"Ever think you might be keeping me company, too?"

"No," Sabrina smiled.

"Believe it or not, I'm sick and tired of skydiving with the LA Rams all the time," Jill replied, laying down her hand. "You can stay on the couch if you're tired."

"Thanks. I might."

The cards lay where they sat and both women sat quietly, spaced out and tired, but smiling inwardly. There was no need for the game anymore.

"Think the Late Show'll be on in a few minutes. I'm gonna change," Jill stood and wandered to her bedroom.

Sabrina stood at the table, staring thoughtfully at nothing, and began to gather all the cards. Curious, she flipped over Jill's abandoned hand before collecting it. Three aces lay neatly arranged side by side, ignored. She smiled.


	4. Dancing Queen

**March 23, 1975**

Sabrina stared into her empty glass, watching neon reflections slither over the ice cubes.

She'd finally been dragged out to a disco. Sabrina didn't like the bar scene or the disco scene, if they were even different things to her. Why go out and pay top dollar for a bottle of the same stuff she had at home? But she relented. It was time they did something Jill wanted - but that didn't mean she was enjoying it. It was too hard to talk over Jungle Boogie blasting through the darkness. A waitress paused at their table to plunk down a third pair of drinks.

To be honest, Jill was ready for her best friend to be shaken out of her rut, and she thought a man was just the thing. The girl hadn't gone out in forever. Best case scenario, Jill was hoping they would both find guys to take home tonight. Enough were parading past the table to introduce themselves, but as she feared, not many seemed to be looking at Sabrina.

"Why don't you just go dance?" Sabrina asked loudly.

"Because YOU are having a night out, and YOU are going to dance," she pointed at her sharply.

"I don't even _want_ to dance. And anyway, nobody's ever going to talk to me with you sitting here." She said it jokingly, but those were the facts. She had stopped letting that sort of thing bother her many years ago still, this wasn't exactly a parade for her ego.

Jill was taken a tiny bit aback. "I'll dance with you, Bri," she offered. It wasn't just that she wanted to dance. She wanted to be the one to dance with Sabrina, to show her someone cared - the most desirable person in the club, no less. Jill knew she was. Not that it really went to her head - well, sort of - but it was just a fact. She wielded that power, and she could use it to make everyone notice Sabrina. If they gave her a chance, they might find she was really the coolest girl at the club.

"Thanks, I really don't wanna. _You_ go!"

"Hey there," they looked up to the greeting of the handsomest guy yet. He cupped a hand around his mouth, "I'm Ray."

"Jill. That's Sabrina."

Sabrina tipped her glass hello. Jill motioned for him to join them. He instantly dragged up a chair from the next table and swung a leg over it, scooting as close as possible to Jill, oblivious to the protests of the people at that other table.

The two started talking. How they managed to carry on a conversation in this ear-bursting room was beyond Sabrina. They must be speaking on their own frequency, or maybe they'd built up an immunity or something. She could only make out the odd note, but enough to tell that Jill was doing that dumb voice again. She watched her throw back that mane, exploding in giggles that she recognized as fake. Sabrina rolled her eyes, disappearing again into her glass. This was why she didn't go out with Jill very often.

Eventually Ray stood, obviously intending to go dance. Sabrina nodded for Jill to just go already; she felt like a ball and chain on her friend's ankle all evening, knowing she'd really rather be on the dance floor.

_Come with us?_ she motioned. Sabrina shook her head. Jill already knew not to try to make her dance. With a shrug, she gave the guy her hand and hopped up from her seat.

"Do you hustle?"

"Do. I. Hustle." She grinned, grabbing his wrist and leading him towards the crowd.

Sabrina stayed put, glazing over and blending into the crowd. She felt stupid sitting here alone, the detached third wheel. Nobody was asking her to dance still - not that she wanted to. Then again, with some of the lower life forms that were lurking in here, that was probably for the best. Songs passed. She didn't know how many - they all sounded alike.

Jill was the hit of the dance floor... naturally. Everyone was watching her, and it wasn't hard to see why. After so many throwaway nights watching TV and playing cards with Jill, it was sobering to see how she was practically a celebrity here in her own element. Not just good at dancing, but so good at being Jill Munroe. Sabrina was mesmerized watching her in action, moving fluidly like part of the music, perfectly following her own choreography like a spontaneous dance scene in a movie. At times she even seemed to have a gravitational pull over the rest of the crowd. How did she friggin do that? Sabrina could spend a month rehearsing one dance and still do it like a malfunctioning robot.

The guy was starting to put his hands on Jill, and Sabrina couldn't help but share the entire disco's collective thought: lucky bastard.

A couple at the next table was playing tonsil hockey. She watched them for a minute, out of boredom and mild disgust. Her glass was empty again.

Then she wondered suddenly what she was still doing there. Like Jill and this guy were going to thank each other politely for dancing and then head their separate ways? Yeah right. They were here to hook up, and she was going to be even more awkwardly in the way if she stuck around much longer.

She suspected Jill had brought her here to get laid too, for that matter. Not that she had anything in particular against that, but she was really not feeling it.

Another song was just beginning as she pushed through the crowd toward the glowing blonde beacon. Ray looked annoyed to see her approaching. "Hey kid, I think I'm gonna call it a night."

"Oh Bri, I'm sorry," Jill fretted. "Can you just hang on a second, and -"

"No no. I'll get a cab. It's no problem."

"Are you sure? There are some really cute guys here..."

Sabrina smiled. "That's okay. Knock 'em dead."

Jill still pondered whether to follow, watching the back of her friend's head floating away through the dense crowd of other heads.

"You're not thinking about going already, are you?" Ray's voice asked from behind her, slipping a hand around her waist. She turned to look at his face.

The realization dawned on her that trying to help Sabrina out of her rut had perhaps put her in a rut of her own. But you know what, Sabrina should try dealing with her problems herself. Right now she felt like enjoying the spoils of her own life again, and something about the lighting was making this guy look like Steve McQueen.

"No," she answered. "I'm not her babysitter."

"Good. Let me buy you a drink."

Jill followed him to the bar. "Sex on the beach," she purred, sliding onto a seat.

"W-huh?"

She pointed to the bartender.

"Oh. Scotch rocks," Ray added. She giggled. The drink wasn't her favorite, but she loved ordering it.

"So I've seen you here before, haven't I?"

"Have you?"

"Something like you, I don't soon forget," he winked. "But I haven't seen you around for a while. Found a hotter scene?"

Jill flashed her eyebrows suggestively, smiling, "As hot as it gets." _That dinky, quiet apartment._

"Maybe you'll show me sometime," he added, receiving their drinks and tipping his glass to her. "Welcome back."

She poked aside the straw and sipped right from the tall glass, feeling the cold liquid heat her throat as it slid down. "Hmmm. Welcome back, Jill," she repeated, taking another long drink.

_Sabrina must be well on her way home by now_, she thought. Then frowned, annoyed. _Since when I do I have to worry about Sabrina every second? Screw her. If she's so smart, she can deal with her own problems her own damn self. It's not my problem. I shouldn't even have bothered bringing her here._

Jill swiveled around to face the dance floor, leaning back against the bar in a way that stuck out her chest. She bit her straw to stifle a grin, pretending not to notice Ray, among many others, staring like deer caught in headlights. The music and the lights and the buzz were blending all together.

"Is it hot in here?" she asked, drawing circles in the condensation on her glass. '_Just you, baby.'_

"Just you, babe."

She put on a coy smile.

_Look at this guy, I can make this guy roll over and beg. I've been wasting nights like an old maid playing stupid games when I can have anybody I point my finger at. And they'd be lucky to have me._

"So what do you do?" She asked.

"I'm an actor," he replied, cocking his head and smiling as if for a headshot.

Weird how almost all of the guys she talked to in bars were actors, or star athletes. Sometimes they'd even go so far as to name the team they played for. Keeping her mouth shut was sometimes difficult, considering she usually knew every player and their statistics.

"Really. How exciting," she answered. "What have you been in?"

"Well, I'm just getting my break. We're not allowed to say too much about it... but it's going to be pretty big," he confided, making a show of looking over his shoulder. "You know, in a couple of months, I might not even be able to come out like this anymore."

"Glad I got to you before fame goes to your head," she teased. _Oh, brother._ He was handsome enough to be in a movie, anyway.

"How about another?" he asked, watching the last of her drink disappear.

"No," she said fuzzily, raising one finger to touch his stubbly chin. "Take me somewhere?"

* * *

Jill breathed heavily, her hands squeezing fistfuls of sheets.

Ray had been understandably eager to go home with her. This was the conquest of his year. For her, this was just routine maintenance to make sure her talents didn't atrophy. She'd already forgotten his name. But he was serving his purpose, and doing it quite well.

Somewhere along the line though, the thought of Sabrina started floating through her mind again, like an annoying fly that wouldn't leave. It distracted her from the finish.

After, Jill stared into the darkness of the strange bedroom, listening to the guy snore quietly behind her, her blank face slowly turning into a frown. Thinking back, she felt guilty for leaving Sabrina hanging at the disco. She'd been horny and selfish. Why couldn't have guilt waited to invade 10 seconds later?

Sleep never seemed to come, but suddenly it was early in the morning. As she was about to slip out of bed, hands slid around her waist. She saw no reason not to let him do as he wished. All she felt this time was the bed moving.

She went home to shower.


	5. The Night After That

**March 24, 1975**

Later in the morning, Jill's fingers dialed the number they knew on their own.

"Hey. it's me. Listen, I just wanted to apologize for last night." She had meant to get Sabrina some attention, and make her feel better, not worse. She'd gotten drunk, gone on autopilot and accomplished just the opposite.

"Hm? It was no problem," Sabrina answered openly.

"No, I ditched you and it was rotten. I know you don't even like it there. The time got away from me."

"With your dance partner, I don't blame you. I wasn't about to ruin the rest of your night. How was he, anyway?"

She paused, knowing Sabrina wasn't referring to his dance moves. She remembered it happening... but not really what it felt like. It was the same as so many other times. "It was okay."

"Good. I'm glad you had a good time. I'm afraid I've been cramping your love life."

Jill's face flattened. She never kept her doings a secret from Sabrina, but somehow this time she was a little embarrassed. Was her sex life this big a part of her identity in Sabrina's eyes? Was it actually?

"No, you haven't."

"Well, we've been together most nights, and I know you haven't been getting any from me, so..."

Jill laughed.

"Really though. Much as I like being with you, I don't want to keep you from having your own fun."

"I... it's not as much fun as it used to be," Jill said, twisting the cord.

"Hm, how come? You love dancing."

"I don't mean..." she trailed off sullenly. Now that she had a real friend to fill that empty spot in her life, ditching her for sex was the first time it had ever felt... icky. But that was probably too much to say. "Idunno. What do you want to do today?"

"Well, SOME of us have to go to work."

"Oh. Right." It was her day off, but not Sabrina's. "Well, how about tonight?"

"Eh. Whatever. I'm off at 10."

"Okay. C'mon over if you want."

"Alright."

"Scrabble?"

"You _definitely_ don't like scrabble," Sabrina pointed out.

"I just decided that I'm going to beat you."

"In that case, I'll be slightly late because I have to stop by the bank and pick up as much betting money as I can carry."

She laughed. "See ya later."

* * *

"How do you sleep on this couch all the time?" Jill yawned as she wriggled into a standing position and switched off the TV.

"I do okay."

"It's inhumane. I can make room in bed."

Sabrina consented, heading the the bathroom to wash and change into the set of her spare pajamas that stayed in Jill's top dresser drawer. They traded off. She heard Jill begin to brush her teeth as she climbed into bed. The sheets smelled nice. She got comfortable. Minutes passed. She frowned curiously, turning to look into the open bathroom where Jill was just standing in front of the mirror, toothbrush motionless.

"What, are you doing an Ultrabrite commercial in there?"

"Huh? Oh." Jill had sleepily spaced out. She rinsed, then came back into her bedroom to climb between the covers with an excited grin. "This is _fuuun_."

"Why? You aren't gonna sleep naked or something, are you?"

"I don't do that ...often," she finished with a quiet smile, clicking off the light.

"Yippee."

"What, you wouldn't wanna sleep with me if I was naked?" Jill teased.

"Eh, wouldn't matter. Just as long as you don't snore or sleepwalk, I'm not hard to get along with."

Despite the joking nature of the question, she was now picturing Jill naked next to her in the semi darkness. The image was a pleasant one, and probably not that far from the truth. It didn't faze her.

"I don't think I do. But anyway it's like a sleep-over. That was so fun, having a friend sleep over when I was little, I haven't even thought about that in so long." She also remembered those few nights when a thunderstorm had got too scary, and little Kris had climbed into bed with her. "Did you ever have a sleep-over?"

"No, see, there were no other children on the planet that I come from."

Jill let out a melodious giggle.

"My dad never organized a tea party for me or anything. But I had a few sleep-overs, yeah."

Her father acted a little bit more like a superior officer than a dad, sometimes. Not that she ever felt unloved or unhappy - she respected him tremendously, and few things rivaled the proud glow she felt whenever she earned his praise for a task well done. While he wasn't as warm and fuzzy as some of her friends' dads, she was fully aware even as a little girl that he was doing his job the best he knew how.

A car accident had killed her mother before she was old enough to remember, and so her childhood lacked certain frills. Fresh-baked cookies, hair braiding and games of dress-up in mothers' clothes happened only at friends' houses.

She remembered that one faded, solemn-looking blue wool sweater that hung on a wooden hanger in the hall closet, all the way towards the left, a deliberate few inches apart from everything else. It was her mother's. As a young girl, she would open the closet and look up at it from time to time, with a vague feeling like she mustn't ever touch it. Once when she was home alone, she took it off the hanger and put it on, and went to look at herself in the mirror. It smelled stale. Maybe she wasn't playing right - it didn't seem to be very fun.

"You know, I can't even picture you as a little kid," Jill said with a smile, interrupting her thoughts.

"I'm not sure I ever was one," she laughed. "My dad never treated me like a kid, really. Not like I saw my friends' parents talk to them, like they were babies. He talked to me like a grownup, pretty much. If he read to me, it'd be something historical. I don't think we owned any fiction books. He's just that type that teaches you to swim by throwing you in the pool... which he also literally did."

Jill snorted.

"He let me make my own decisions, set out all the facts with me, and then had me to do it for myself. Like, I never had a bedtime. He let me find out what worked and what didn't. He knew I'd understand a thing better if I had control over it."

"That must be why you know how to do everything," Jill mused, and yawned. "I wonder what it would be like to have a strict regular bedtime."

"Your daddy must have spoiled you awful."

"He did," she smiled sleepily.

How much nicer this felt, really, than last night. Just being able to fall asleep next to someone she liked without the nagging knowledge that she'll have to sneak away in the morning, or worrying about whether she looks sexy at this angle.

She woke sometime in the night, rolling over to get comfortable, and saw Sabrina's face in the near-darkness. She really was pretty, but she'd probably make a wisecrack if you told her so. At this moment, Jill could look at her, really study, for much longer than she normally could. And it was a good thing - for some reason, she didn't feel like taking her eyes away. Perfect profile. Nice skin. She wondered if it was as soft as it looked.

Early in the morning she was surprised to find she had cuddled up to Sabrina at some point. Bri wasn't the cuddly type, and would probably swat her away when she woke up. But for now, it felt nice and warm and comfy. She eased her head back down onto her sleeping friend's shoulder and closed her eyes again.

Sabrina smiled faintly. She'd been awake since sunrise.

_Is this really that same disco queen sex bomb from the night before? Take away all that crap, and the girl underneath thinks it's nice to sleep on my shoulder. Little old me. Heh, how many guys would love to be me right now? _

_She likes me_, she thought, feeling special. _I like her. I kinda even love her._


End file.
